


Blonde Haired Boys and Missed Buses

by barryolivers



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, First Meet, Fluff, M/M, but suicide, depends on interpretation, mentions of depression/ hinted attempted suicide, spoilers for tdc?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barryolivers/pseuds/barryolivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Excuse me?" </p><p>Thomas was brought from his thoughts, mainly about the day ahead, by a thick British accent flooding his ears, and he dragged his eye sight from his knees to the voice. </p><p>"That seat taken?" The owner of the voice said, gesturing to the seat at which Thomas had slung his bag on.<br/>Thomas shook his head, dragging his bag into the floor, it landing with a thump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blonde Haired Boys and Missed Buses

**Author's Note:**

> Possible spoilers for The Death Cure. Depends how you see it.

The first day, he had arrived at the station the same time as usual, 10:50, ten minutes until the bus was due to arrive. Slumping his bag down on the seat beside him, he slipped a bud from his ear to listen out for any announcements. Usual routine. 

"Excuse me?" 

Thomas was brought from his thoughts, mainly about the day ahead, by a thick British accent flooding his ears, and he dragged his eye sight from his knees to the voice. 

"That seat taken?" The owner of the voice said, gesturing to the seat at which Thomas had slung his bag on. 

Thomas shook his head, dragging his bag into the floor, it landing with a thump. 

"All yours." Thomas mumbled. 

"Thanks." The guy said, slumping himself down on the now empty seat. 

Thomas hummed a 'no problem.'

After ten minutes (and a lot of glancing to the boy beside him), Thomas glanced at his watch again, frowning when it read '11:01', as the bus was rarely late and the time it was, the driver had died. 

"Not usually late?" The voice chimed again, and Thomas looked to the owner, smirking slightly. 

"No, the last time it was, the driver had died the night before."

The guy laughed, and Thomas smiled a little wider. "I bloody hope he hasn't died this time."

"I'd be surprised, he's a right health nut. Seriously, one time handed out pamphlets about the gym."

"You can die from too much exercise."

Thomas smirked, deciding he liked the guy beside him. "Thomas."

"Newt." He mumbled in reply. 

Thomas tried not to frown at the name, but he liked that, too.

##  xxxx 

The second day, Thomas was reading when Newt asked him if the seat was taken. "No, never is." Thomas replied not taking his eyes from the pages of his book, and he could swear he heard Newt huff a laugh. 

"So, Tommy."

Thomas looked up from the book so fast he could have sworn he got whiplash, and couldn't hide the little flutter at the fact that Newt remembered his name (and gave him a nickname). 

Newt was smiling a little. "Oh, you finally heard me that time."

Thomas frowned. "Huh?"

"I've been bloody calling your name. I asked if you know where bus seven was headed." 

Thomas shook his head. "It's the one I used to catch until--" He cut himself off, and could feel Newt's curious gaze. "I just don't catch it anymore."

Newt nodded, visibly deciding he wouldn't press. "Not good?"

Thomas shook his head. "You'd be surprised what could happen on a bus."

Newt huffed a laugh, but it wasn't a mocking one.

##  xxxx 

The third day, Thomas didn't dump his bag, and waited for Newt to show up this time. He smiled a little as he saw him, but it was quickly replaced with a frown when he saw crutches at his side, supporting him as he walked. 

"What happened?" Thomas asked, as though he'd known Newt for years, not two days. 

"Walls don't agree with me." Was all Newt said, and Thomas left it at that.

##  xxxx 

The fourth day, Newt was already there when Thomas arrived. "Decided to show up, eventually, Tommy?"

Thomas smirked, throwing himself down. "Slim it. I slept in."

Newt huffed a laugh besides him. "I was getting worried."

Thomas frowned. "What?"

Newt shook his head. Thomas left it.

##  xxxx 

The fifth day, Newt didn't show up.

##  xxxx 

The sixth day, Newt came and sat beside Thomas, a clear sadness around him, and he was wearing long sleeves. "Hey." Thomas muttered, no louder than a hushed whisper. 

"Hey, Tommy." 

"Where'd you go?"

Newt shrugged. "Guess bridges don't either." And he shuffled off onto bus seven, limp visible without crutches, leaving Thomas blinking to himself as he put the pieces together.

##  xxxx 

The sixth day, they had both arrived at the same time. 

"So, Tommy. We've met four times, and it's about time we talked. Actually talked."

So they did. About aspirations, current affairs, likes, dislikes, and Thomas decided he liked Newt for certain. And it was clear Newt felt the same.

##  xxxx 

The seventh day, Newt was smiling to himself as Thomas arrived. "What's got you so happy?" Thomas laughed, sitting beside him, facing the other. 

"I only went and got myself a bloody job interview."

Thomas smiled. "Good luck, man."

Newt smirked to himself.

##  xxxx 

The eighth day, Newt got the job.

##  xxxx 

The tenth day, Thomas had his head in his hands, soft sob escaping when Newt sat besides him. He could feel Newt's gaze on him, but he didn't want to look up. 

"What's wrong, Tommy?" Newt's voice had an odd sincerity about it that made Thomas feel like he could pour his heart and soul out to the guy. 

"Chuck." Was all he managed the whisper. 

Newt's face softened even more, as he nudged Thomas to sit up and he wrapped his arms around him (admittingly awkwardly with the armrest between them), and let Thomas sob into his shoulder. 

"It's been a year. You'd think--" 

Newt shushed him. "I'd be lying if I told you it got easier. It hurts less, though." 

They missed the bus that day.

##  xxxx 

The eleventh day, Thomas didn't show up.

##  xxxx 

The twelfth day, Thomas shuffled to sit beside Newt, and he had sighed relieved. 

"I thought something bloody horrible had happened to you!" 

Thomas smiled. "Sorry."

Newt punched his shoulder lightly. "Don't do that again."

Thomas nodded. "Won't do."

Newt huffed a laugh. "Good that."

##  xxxx 

The thirteenth day, Newt was the one who was late, and they both stayed in silence after their greetings until Newt asked "So, what happened on bus seven?" 

"My little brother was stabbed by someone." The reply came out in a squeak. 

Newt nodded. "Sorry to hear it." The phrase should have been harsh, but Thomas took it as the biggest, most comforting thing ever. "Year ago on the day you stained my shirt?"

Thomas nodded.

##  xxxx 

The fifteenth day, Thomas showed up with drinks for the both of them, aware of Newt's preference. "It's odd."

Newt raised his eyebrow, lips hovering over the lid. "What is?" He said, taking a sip. 

"This." Thomas gestured to the two of them. "I mean, we've known each other two weeks, and you already know more about me than my best friend."

Newt frowned. "That bad?"

"No." Thomas mumbled, not sure where he was going with it. 

Newt seemed to know though. "But you know nothing about me aside from my name and that I jumped off a wall and a bridge. And that my favourite movie is Star Wars."

Thomas hummed. "Isaac though."

"Slim it, Tommy, or I'll throw this drink at you."

Thomas laughed.

##  xxxx 

The sixteenth day, Newt showed up with drinks. 

"Thanks." Thomas said, as Newt slumped down, handing him it. 

Newt shrugged. "About you not knowing about me."

Thomas frowned. "Don't worry, about it."

Newt shook his head. "It's right, you don't know anything about me. I'm worried, you know? I'm worried that if I tell you anything about me, you'll bloody run to the hills and never speak to me again."

Thomas frowned. "I wouldn't do that." 

"I have type three riach. Or 'crank'."

##  xxxx 

The seventeenth day, neither showed up.

##  xxxx 

The twentieth day, neither brought drinks, and Newt let out a huff of relief at the sight of Thomas. 

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't. Don't be sorry, Newt. I just-- Needed time. It's--"

"A lot." Newt mumbled. 

"Yeah. But I'm not gonna run or anything. Doesn't change anything." 

Newt smiled. "I appreciate that, Tommy."

And they exchanged numbers.

##  xxxx 

The twenty-second day, Newt was paler. 

"Hey."

"Tommy." Newt nodded. 

"I forgot drinks." Thomas laughed.

"It was my turn, that's why."

Thomas frowned. "Oh." He slumped down beside Newt. "Guess you get doubles tomorrow."

Newt smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sorry."

Thomas shrugged. "Don't worry-"

"Not just about that, you idiot. About what I'm about to say."

Thomas frowned. 

"It's nothing bad, but I want you to know. This past month, I've been happier, not just because I have a job, and an apartment, feet to stand on--" he laughed at that " but because of you, Tommy. You made me happier. It's bloody odd to say, but it's true."

Thomas nodded.

And they kissed and Thomas felt like an explosion happened in his mind.

##  xxxx 

The twenty-third day, Newt didn't show up, and Thomas left his cup on his seat, just in case.

##  xxxx 

The twenty-fourth day, Newt didn't show either. And Thomas felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

##  xxxx 

And on the twenty-fifth day, Thomas knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Meh. I was kinda nervous to post this.


End file.
